


Negative Split

by sebayard



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Swimming, Car Accidents, Eventual Coach/Trainee (?) relationship, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Touch-Starved Keith (Voltron), Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 02:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15571815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebayard/pseuds/sebayard
Summary: “I can time you, if you want.”He says it so calmly, so…nonchalantly. Does he not realize he’s tipped Keith’s world on it’s axis? Is it not obvious?Even so, it’s funny how an entire life can shift off it’s projected course with just a simple sentence.“Yeah.” Keith’s voice feels scratchy. “Sure.”Keith doesn't think he has a chance.The universeShiro says otherwise.





	Negative Split

**Author's Note:**

> I binged all of Free! in three days.

Keith’s been swimming since he was seven years old.

 

It’s the water. There’s something about the it that keeps him mesmerized. Something about the way it moves, how it glides across every piece of himself, every joint, every sinew, every muscle, moving in tandem with him, not against. The water works with him like a partner in a dance. Each breath, each stroke another step in a sequence that Keith lets the water lead, shape, guide. It leaves him breathless, free floating and euphoric like some sort of high. Almost like flying, in a way he can’t really explain. The weightlessness. The vastness. Perhaps… perhaps this is why Keith’s always felt that pull, that gentle nudge to follow the water wherever it takes him, to swim until he feels whole again.

 

(From across the pool, Shiro raises his hand in a small wave.)

 

Or maybe it’s another reason.

 

Pulling his goggles over his eyes, Keith takes his place on the block. Two deep breaths before positioning himself for the jump. _In… out… In… out…_

 

And then he flies.

 

The chill of the water feels good on his warm skin as he submerges. Keith is always burning like an untamed wildfire, water the only thing able to reign him in, calm him, cool him down, relieving him of…

 

Well…

 

Everything.

 

He can swim each stroke relatively well, but this time around he goes with the butterfly. It’s always been a favorite of his, the way it joins water and air seamlessly, leaving him breathless in the best way. Keith takes this round nice and slow, letting his joints move and swing in that familiar motion, getting used to the water around him. It’s just a warm up, but even still Keith can feel his muscles working, the strain of their movements. Just another way the water makes him feel alive and warm and whole.

 

With each leap he can see Shiro on the other end, and each time he’s left wishing the moment above water lasted just a little bit longer. But rather than end his lap and linger on the other end like he wants, Keith twists, launching himself into the turn and allowing the momentum to carry him forward. He picks up speed, pushing himself just a little harder, and before he knows it he’s touching the wall where he started.

 

“Not bad for a warm-up, Keith.” Pidge says, reaching her hand down to help him out of the water. “Your dive form looks a lot smoother than it did last time I watched you practice.”

 

Keith smiles, glad that the hours of practicing his technique have paid off. “Thanks, Pidge.”

 

She returns his smile, friendly and familiar, but it quickly turns into a slight frown, and Keith knows what’s coming. “How are you doing? Are you feeling okay?” Pidge looks at him the way she always does when she asks him this; as if she can read his soul like an open book. To Keith, it is as much charming as it is disconcerting.

 

Keith knows she means well. She always does. His tendency to overwork himself has lead to some… _unfortunate,_ events, and that’s all she’s concerned about. But that was in the past. He’s fine now.

 

He’s fine.

 

“I’m okay, Pidge. Really.” He turns to her and tries to give a reassuring smile. “It’s a good day. I feel good, just a little sore from yesterday, that’s all.” It’s not a lie, and yet it still feels like one when it leaves his lips. Why?

 

“You’re sure? Because there’s nothing wrong with taking a break, you know.”

 

His expression softens at her own concerned look. “I know, Pidge. If I’m getting too tired, I’ll stop. I promise.” This, he knows, is the truth. He’s learned enough from his mistakes not to make them again.

 

“Yeah?”

 

He nods, holding her gaze. “Yeah.”

 

Finally convinced that Keith means what he says, her smile returns as she lightly punches his arm. “Good. Now let me just document your warm-up time.”

 

As Pidge punches in the numbers, Keith’s eyes wander across the pool, searching for the familiar black cap with white hair sticking out before he spots him in lane five. “What’s he working on today?”

 

Pidge doesn’t even have to look up from her tablet to know who he’s talking about. “Freestyle. He’s been here for a couple hours…” The _he’s leaving soon so for the love of god go talk to him_ goes unspoken.

 

“Hm.” Keith doesn’t move, just watches Shiro as he takes the last couple strokes before he touches the wall, ending his run. He lingers there for a moment, chest heaving, water dripping from his cap onto his face and down his chest. If he notices Keith staring, he doesn’t say anything.

 

For so long now the two of them have been practicing at the same pool and their conversation never expanded beyond the basic hellos, the occasional wave, the flash of a smile. Nothing close, nothing intimate, nothing like swimming while knowing the other is watching with a purpose. Keith had resigned himself long ago to his fate of straddling the line between acquaintance and friend, anything deeper just out of arm’s reach.

 

(Pidge says otherwise. She says that there’s something between their silent conversations and little waves. But so what if they occasionally happened to eat at the same table in silence after practice? And so what if Shiro never leaves the pool without waving goodbye? So what? So what? So what? It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. So what?)

 

Instead of walking up and taking Shiro’s hand like he wants, like he’s imagined himself doing so many times, Keith walks to the lane next to him and hops in, moving into a starting position.

 

Shiro turns and offers a friendly smile. “Backstroke?”

 

Keith nods. Backstroke. Yeah. That’s what he was doing. Definitely not just an excuse to be in the water at the same time as Shiro, to be next to him, to drink in his presence while he can.

 

“I can time you, if you want.”

 

He says it so calmly, so… _nonchalantly_. Does he not realize he’s tipped Keith’s world on it’s axis? Is it not obvious?

 

Even so, it’s funny how an entire life can shift off it’s projected course with just a simple sentence.

 

“Yeah.” Keith’s voice feels scratchy. “Sure.”

 

“Alright.” Shiro’s smile widens and this alone makes Keith’s face turn red. He’s seen his full smile a few times, gleaming like the sun, but never this close, never this wide. It is alarmingly beautiful, and Keith knows instantly that he would do anything to be the recipient of that glow again.

 

Keith shakes his head, gulps, and sets himself up as Shiro pulls himself out of the water.

 

“Ready?” He’s holding a stopwatch and sitting on the edge of the pool, feet kicking the water gently back and forth, and for a brief moment there’s an urge to reach out and touch, to feel the way his legs kick, to feel the muscles constrict and the water move around them. There’s no particular reason. No underlying desire or motivation beneath it that Keith can pinpoint. Just a longing to touch and feel that he never quite comprehended. Maybe it’s grounding. Maybe it’s the intimacy. Maybe it’s longing to connect. Maybe it’s nothing, nothing at all.

 

In the end, Keith just keeps his grip on the bars. Anything other than that was out of the question anyway.

 

“On three.”Keith nods, adjusts his position to maximize the force of his launch. He breathes.

 

“One…”

 

In.

 

“Two…’

 

Out.

 

“Three!”

 

Instinct, built upon years and years of swimming and competing, kicks in the moment Shiro calls, and Keith’s off.

 

He’s not the best at backstroke— it’s probably safe to say it’s his worst technique— but Keith is filled with a new sort of motivation, knowing that Shiro is watching him. He gives it his all, holds nothing back, and by the time he’s back at the starting point, he’s panting hard. Small beads of sweat mix with the water dripping down his forehead. “So? How’d I do?”

 

“Thirty on the dot. I’m impressed. How long have you been swimming for?”

 

“About fourteen years, give or take. I started lessons when I was seven.”

 

Shiro lets out a low whistle. “No wonder, then. You look like someone who was born in the water. It’s… it’s pretty breathtaking to watch. Not that I’ve been watching you… I mean…”

 

It’s a good thing Keith’s face is already pink from the workout, because he can feel his heart beating a mile a minute and his face feels like fire.

 

There's a light dusting of red crossing his own cheeks as Shiro clears his throat. Probably the aftermath of his hours of practice, but still…

 

_(Cute.)_

 

“Ah, I actually do think I have a bit of advice for you, if you don’t mind it of course. I wouldn’t want to step on you or your coach’s toes.” Shiro nods in Pidge’s direction, who’s sitting against the wall hunched over her tablet, throwing discreet looks in their direction.

 

“Oh, she’s not my coach, she’s my…” What was Pidge, exactly? His swimming companion? The one who made sure he didn’t overwork himself to the point of injury? “My manager.” Yeah, that sounded right. She is the one who always figures out what events he’s in and all that. Why not put a title to it? “And go ahead, lay it on me. I can take it.” Truthfully, Shiro could rip Keith to shreds and he’d probably thank him. But something about him says that Shiro would never do that. It’s in the way he works, the way he trains, the way he carries himself.

 

Keith, for all his shortcomings, can spot a good man when he sees one.

 

Shiro chuckles and scratches the back of his head. “Well, your butterfly and freestyle are perfect, honestly, but it’s just that I’ve noticed you kind of… attack the water during your backstroke. I picked up on it because it was a problem I had too, actually. You just have to pace yourself and you’ll find your times improving. Let the water carry you instead of forcing it into submission. Patience yields focus.”

 

The advice means a lot to him, and Keith listens to his instruction, he really does. But his brain is stuck on _your butterfly and freestyle are perfect_ , his mind playing it on loop over and over and over. It’s not that Keith’s particularly vain about his capabilities or even overly proud of himself because of Shiro’s praise.

 

It’s that Shiro has been watching him. And intently, by the sound of it. The very idea makes Keith shiver.

 

“Patience yield focus, huh?” Keith forces himself to swallow his emotions as he looks up at Shiro. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Something in his look shifts, and Keith’s world spins. “I’m glad.” Shiro’s voice is soft and gentle and far from the condescending tone Keith used to receive from his old coaches. It’s refreshing, and Keith feels it all the way down to his toes. “Where is your coach, if you don’t mind me asking?” Shiro looks around, a fruitless attempt to spot someone who could potentially be associated with Keith. “I don’t think I’ve ever met them.”

 

That would be because, unlike most competitive swimmers, Keith doesn’t have one. “I uh, I’m kind of in-between coaches at the moment.”

 

Shiro quirks his head, confused, but before he can speak he’s interrupted by a voice in the distance.

 

“You could say that again.” Pidge speaks up from her spot against the wall before standing up to join them at the water’s edge. “This loser hasn’t had a coach since he was a teenager.”

 

_“Pidge.”_

 

“What? It’s true.”

 

Shiro looks at him, wide-eyed. “Is it?”

 

“So it may have been a couple months, a year, maybe…”

 

“Two. It’s been two years, Keith.” Pidge crosses her arms and gives him a pointed stare. “And two years too long, if you ask me.”

 

Has it really been two years? It simultaneously feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago. But she’s right, Keith hasn’t had a coach since his incident at nineteen. It’s his own fault for not seeking one out, although, in his defense, he had other things on his mind at the time. But two years… wow. He never meant to go that long.

 

Keith pulls himself out of the water to stand next to Pidge. “I guess it has been a while…”

 

“So you’ve just been on your own this whole time?” Shiro says, following suit and taking a spot beside Keith, who becomes instantly aware of their close proximity. The smell of chlorine and sweat emanating from him is borderline intoxicating.  

 

Doing his best not to stare at the enigma beside him, Keith shrugs and lets his eyes wander across the room. “Well, not really. Pidge has been with me since the start of everything. And my roommate Hunk has always been pretty supportive." As far as friends go, Keith knows he really lucked out on his end. He doesn't know where he'd be without them. Dead in a ditch somewhere, probably. Or so Hunk likes to say. "But other than that, yeah. It’s worked out pretty well so far.”

 

“If by ‘worked out’ you mean ‘rely on raw talent to propel him forward until he ultimately burns out’ then yeah sure, it’s ‘worked out.’”

 

While it’s only muttered under her breath, her words leave their mark. The burn stings, but it holds true. This conversation isn’t a new one. Just last week they argued about in what direction his future is headed, and Keith was left with the distinct feeling that Pidge was talking about more than just swimming. Nevertheless, she is right about one thing; Keith’s going to plateau, and he’s going to plateau soon if he doesn’t get some guidance. There’s only so much you can do on your own before it all falls apart.

 

Either Shiro doesn’t hear the comment or chooses to ignore it. Keith hopes it’s the former. “It’s amazing you’ve been able to compete at this level on your own. That’s, that’s incredible, Keith.” He looks at him, wide eyed and entirely sincere.

 

“Thanks, Shiro.” Keith’s already present blush deepens, and he feels like he’s going to combust. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

 

Shiro’s smile, Keith decides as another one spreads across his face, is just about damn near his favorite sight in the universe.

 

Pidge coughs, drawing their attention back to her. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Shiro. Do you have anyone you could recommend? If he’s gonna improve he needs a coach. I can only do so much on my own.”

 

There's a pause as Shiro blinks before responding “Well, I only feel comfortable recommending Allura but she’s booked solid…”

 

Keith bites his lip. It makes sense that he’d recommend Allura. He can see her on the opposite end of the pool, gathering her belongings as she heads out for the day. She’s been Shiro’s coach for as long as he’s been around, and her constant presence lead to her and Keith becoming something akin to friends over the past couple years. He would have jumped at the opportunity to have her as his coach, but he knows how busy she is. It’s too bad, though. Keith would have loved to train next to Shiro every day.

 

“…But if you really need someone, I uh, I could do it, if you want. Be your coach, I mean.”

 

For the second time that day, Keith’s life is thrown off course. They're just words, just a sentence, just an offer, and yet it feels a lot like a lifeline, a rescue, a hand reaching down and grabbing his half-drowned body.

 

It also feels to good to be real. “I’m sorry, what?” 

 

Shiro chuckles, and if Keith didn’t know any better, he’d say it sounded nervous. “I could be your coach, if you want. Even if it’s just temporary, until you find someone you want. It works because we already practice at the same pool and you usually start right when I finish up.”

 

Keith doesn’t say anything, just blinks, mouth open.

 

“I don’t have to, of course. Like I said, only if you’re comfortable-“

 

“Absolutely.” It’s not even a question. Yes, a million times yes. How could he say anything else? Even if he could, he wouldn’t want to.

 

“Wait, really?” Shiro looks just as surprised as Keith feels. “I mean, great. Yeah. Yeah okay. Great. I’ve got some stuff to take care of today, so I can’t stick around, but tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll start. Does that sound okay, Keith?”

 

“Yeah. Of course, Shiro.”

 

“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” He starts making his way towards the locker rooms, looking back over his shoulder.

 

Keith nods and gives a thumbs up. “Tomorrow.”

 

Giving out one last shout, Shiro calls, “Great! Tomorrow!” before rounding the corner and out of sight.

 

It feels suddenly quiet, the pool and entire room empty except for Keith and Pidge. She turns to him, beaming, and he can tell she's repressing a scream. “So." She rocks back on forth on her toes, bursting. "That just happened.”

 

It sure did. Keith still doesn’t know what to make of it. His hand is still out in the thumbs up motion. It’s almost like, if he moves, the world around him will crumble, he’ll wake up, and he’ll be back to watching Shiro from afar, to longing for more but knowing he could never have it.

 

He blinks, wiggles his thumb before looking at Pidge and poking her cheek.

 

_“Hey!”_

 

Not a dream.

 

Not a dream...

 

Shiro's actually his-

 

_“Shit.”_

 

“What?” Keith turns to look at Pidge, who has a hand covering her face.

 

“Keith, how much do you think he’s gonna charge?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Keith, there is no way either of us can afford to have _an Olympic Champion be your coach.”_

 

Well…

 

“Shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about swimming so... apologies to all swimmers out there. This started as an exercise in just free writing what I felt like without care of characterization and such, so... it might be a bit messy in that regard but it was fun to write!! I hope it's fun to read to, regardless. As usual all comments/bookmarks/kudos are loved and appreciated! Part 2 will probably be up after s7 airs.
> 
> Catch me on [tumblr](http://sebayard.tumblr.com/) or [twitter.](https://twitter.com/seblamblam)


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